winter haiku in 5/7/5 and 7/5/7...
DI - 25 Nov. (10:12:05)
Pilaspe Haiku
Trombone in morning
sounds from an upper window
sa re ga ma pa
/ / /
RD - 25 Nov. (11:59:28)
Faridabad Haiku
Wrapped against the early dawn
I walk out of dreams
in a winter scented morn
/ / /
DI (11:59:28)
Maharashtran sun
burns in November's late morn
southern edge of north
/ / /
RD (time not noted)
Northern sun caresses one
tempts one to laughter
and flowering in the winter
/ / /
DI (11:40:39)
Thinking of your north
seems like more than happiness
in an unknown land
/ / /
RD (time not noted)
Summer Memory in Winter
Watermelon splits open
heart blood of summer
exquisitely murders heat
/ / /
DI (11:48:05)
Reply
In Panvel I've seen
great mounds of watermelons
now they speak to me
/ / /
RD
25 Nov (cont'd)
(19:16:47)
Traffic snarls on way to work
my day is half done
introspecting this winter
(19:20:12)
Fairy lights twinkle and mock
celebrating mundaneness
on this average winter eve
(19:22:49)
See myself in the rear view
am I closer now
or further from self this eve?
(19:25:19)
Please mute the traffic outside
much noise in my soul
winter calls up memories
(19:28:13)
SMSing bits of me
meaningless shared verse
to baffle the winter eve
(19:33:32)
Wearing lipstick by street light
in traffic rush hour
the Delhi season in swing
(23:59:43)
As I drink down the day's work
wonder where it went
in the early winter mist
26 November (Richa's cont'd)
(00:06:11)
Tea light gleams through whisky glass
flickers wide awake
in an alcoholic dream
(00:20:43)
Poesy dies in wnter night
season's cold shoulder
kills the warmth of treasured words
(00:43:06)
Candlelight induced haiku
outstrips the fair moon
in reality and life
(18:03:11)
The winter sun has gone to bed
crows circle far above
as it seduces the moon
[I take the "it" to be the sun(?) -d.i.]
(19:51:07)
Potholes fill up with winter
streetlights warm the road
but miss my heart completely
RD 27 November
(10:07:05)
Watery sun through my chai
dust motes hibernate
till it's time to come alive
(10:09:53)
The sliding door sticks again
reluctant to let
November into the house
(10:16:06)
The orange tabby stretches
glares at the bland sun
but it is only wooden
(13:36:31)
Sunlight filters through window
Raag Yaman stretches
as my bow draws out the Ni
(15:49:28)
Thirty thousand marriages
Delhi celebrates
the dawn of winter tonight
Labels: poetry
1 Comments:
yaman on violin, travel tales as told by watermelons...wonderful!
this is perhaps the only time i shall protest the new technical thingamabob peter hooked the blog on which offers us just a few lines of a writer's work. work like this deserves the whole page!
delicious.
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